


Awaken

by shortcircuitify



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Father Figures, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortcircuitify/pseuds/shortcircuitify
Summary: There is not much that Link remembers when he awakens from his deep, deep slumber. There is the grass, of course – it is deep green and soft between his toes. Trees litter the ground, their bark rough to the touch. He recognizes the water and the stone of the old Temple, and even the smell of freshly baked apples.There is a man, too.





	Awaken

There is not much that Link remembers when he awakens from his deep, deep slumber. There is the grass, of course – it is deep green and soft between his toes. Trees litter the ground, their bark rough to the touch. He recognizes the water and the stone of the old Temple, and even the smell of freshly baked apples.

There is a man, too. Old and billowy, his laugh deep as Link approaches him. Him, Link cannot quite remember, the corners of his mind still fuzzy as he takes one step, and then another, and then three more and trips over himself.

The old man helps him, and his smile is kind, and asks Link to stay a while.

“I can’t say I have anywhere to go,” Link responds, because where is he to go when there is so much to explore between the roots and dirt here?

The man smiles, deep dimples showing at the corners of his cheeks, “Well, I happen to see a peculiar thing over yonder,” he points beyond the Temple, “What say you we check it out?”

And Link nods, because what else is there to do?

The old man shows him many things, the device on his waist, the Shrines littering the little island they are on, and Link can see the twinkle in his eye, that he knows more than he is sharing. But he is kind, this old man. He walks with Link through forests, shares with him stories in the evening, when Link’s stomach is full of baked apples and the world seems kind and lovely, even though he cannot remember much of it.

He shows Link the proper way to hunt, smiles wide when Link takes down a wild boar, his heart thumping wildly with the thrill. Even the Bokoblins seem to cower away from this old man, and Link feels safe with him, especially enjoys the few days they spend at his cabin, doing nothing but chopping trees and staring into the far abyss.

Link finds the Shrines, feels proud when the man pats him on the shoulder, his booming praise shocking him. And slowly, Link becomes used to the world, enjoys this small paradise of a plateau, where there is plenty to eat and not much to do, overall.

“You’ve done well, Link,” he says one night, when the stars are high and bright, and they share a bowl of fresh grapes, “But there is not much to do now, with the Shrines all found.”

“I have to admit,” Link says, “That I feel a pull in my chest. That there is more to do, away from this plane. I can’t quite remember everything, still.”

It has been weeks, after all, and although he feels peace settle into his bones, he cannot help but feel that something is missing.

The old man smiles, “Tomorrow, let us go to the Temple.” And that is all he says, and Link agrees.

And there, with the sun slowly rising at his back, Link learns about everything – his past, his present, the hard, heavy future weighing on his shoulders. King Rhoam – for, with everything he knows, how could he ever only be an old man? – smiles at Link, that soft smile, and puts his hands on his shoulders. His touch is just a wisp now, but it is still so full, fatherly and proud, and Link stands tall.

“You will do it, and you will do well.” It is a promise.

He slowly, slowly dissipates, until there is nothing left but the cool wisps of the memory of the King of Hyrule. Link takes a deep, stuttering breath, feels a deep ache in his chest. He looks at that plateau he has learned to call his own. And then, he looks out towards the unknown, the distant mountains and vibrant sky, the cloth in his hand anchoring him.

He takes a step forward, and feels the heavy weight of loneliness.


End file.
